Storm
by Willow08
Summary: Ianto is alone in an empty dockland area. The ground is littered with hazards and a storm is approaching. The sooner he's out of there, the better. Rated T just to be on the safe side.


With only the narrow beam of light from his torch breaking through the darkness, Ianto Jones navigated a slow and unsteady path across the docks. Behind him, the shells of empty warehouses creaked and groaned in the wind. Beneath his feet, the shards of glass and chunks of rubble forced each step to be controlled and hesitant. A thin film of water from last night's rain coated the concrete, reflecting the light of the torch back into Ianto's eyes. The night wasn't cold but the strong sea wind and low clouds suggested a storm was on its way. Beyond the docks, out at sea, the waves were stirring. The _sooner I'm back at the Hub, the better_ thought the Welshman.

He checked the handheld monitor he carried for signs of activity. A constant flashing red light indicated Ianto's current position. He was within metres of where the most recent rift spike had been. The map also suggested that there were no other living beings, human or alien, within a thirty metre radius. At least not any with body heat or a pulse. Reattaching the monitor to his belt and taking out his gun, Ianto took several tentative steps forwards. Holding his gun below his torch, he tracked the beam around the area. The torch illuminated more uneven concrete and rubble. Broken bricks and scraps of rusting metal, a plastic bag blowing in the wind; nothing unusual and certainly nothing alien. Ianto guided the light back towards him. Just as he was about to turn back, he spotted something which looked out of place. The light had flickered across it for a second, the glimpse long enough for Ianto to falter. Focusing the beam back onto the object, he found a dark, circular disk which looked like a discus an athlete might throw. It was ordinary looking and motionless but an unusual sight on a deserted dockland area. The handheld monitor hadn't registered the disk's existence, which suggested to Ianto that something was amiss.

"Jack," he whispered. There was a crackle then a pause before the Captain answered.

"Ianto, how's things? Found anything?" To Ianto, the Captain's cheerful tone seemed far away and only emphasized his own isolation.

"A large black disk that looks a bit out of place. It's not registering as a life form on the monitor and there's no recordable energy readings coming from it but something's not right. It might be worth you having a look, sir, just to be on the safe side. If it's fallen through the Rift then it might be dangerous. Then again it might just be nothing."

"Nothing is nothing. I'm on my way. Better not call Gwen just yet. She's has had enough nights ruined by us recently. And if it is nothing we can take the long way home past the pizza place. I'll see you in ten."

"Ten minutes and counting." Jack laughed and Ianto's earpiece fell silent once again.

With nothing to do but wait, Ianto's mind began to wander. He wondered what Jack was thinking at this exact moment. _Perhaps he's thinking about me, _Ianto thought hopefully. He was often surprised by how much the Captain entered his thoughts. When he was chasing Weevils or making the team's morning coffee, the memory of something Jack had said would make him smile. _I probably look like a loony grinning to myself _he mused. Then again, Ianto would often see Jack smiling to himself and the thought occurred to him that Jack might be thinking about him the same way.

While Ianto was considering this, the pressure inside the black disk was slowly building. Enclosed in a thick casing, the trapped liquid had reached far beyond boiling point. The density of its shell prevented the energy from being detected by Ianto's monitor. The disk should have shattered on impact releasing the liquid but the Earth's atmosphere had broken its fall and it had dropped from the sky undamaged. Essentially what sat metres in front of Ianto Jones was a bomb.

Ianto shone the torch onto his watch. Twenty to one in the morning. In less than half an hour the pizza place would be shut and they'd have to manage with cold, left over curry. Ianto was normally a very patient man, but at that moment he could think of a thousand places he would rather be than stood than on an empty dockland, miles from civilisation and with the threat of a storm approaching. He closed his eyes just at the moment when the disc exploded.

The force of the blast took the ground from below Ianto's feet and sent him flying backwards through the air. Searing heat burnt his face and scorched his eyes through his closed eyelids. The rubble he landed on pierced through his skin like knives. The torch he was holding spiralled away to his right and landed, far out of reach, melted beyond recognition. Ianto's gun hit the ground twenty or so metres, still fully functional but unreachable.

The first sensation Ianto registered was the gravel under his fingernails. It was damp and sticky with mud. He moved his fingers to feel for his gun but all he could distinguish was uneven concrete and pools of water. He gradually became aware that he couldn't feel his feet. He tried to move his legs and felt no response. His senses were screaming information at him. Stinking eyes, raw skin, broken elbow, burst ear drums and the taste of blood in his mouth. If Ianto could have opened his eyes he would have seen his beautifully tailored suit ripped and charred where the heat had touched it. As for the disk, it lay broken cleanly in half, leaking out a bright orange liquid similar in texture to lava.

Although he wanted to howl out in agony, the only sound Ianto emitted was a faint gurgle. His lungs were burnt and painfully dry. Each breath was shallow and rattled his chest. It felt like a weight was slowly crushing him.

After what seemed like hours but in reality was only seconds, Ianto's body began to fail him. He lost the feeling in his fingers, hands, arms and soon the sensation of burning across his chest started to fade. His mind relaxed. Fear and panic were replaced by a sense of calm and peace. As his vital functions stopped, Ianto felt completely at ease. He forgot his surroundings, forgot the gravel under his fingernails, forgot who he was and forgot the Captain. His last breath was gentle and submissive.

The SUV skidded to a halt outside one of the deserted warehouses. The Captain, dressed in his usual military attire, leapt out of the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He had left the SUV's headlights on and they lit up the scene before him. A wide, empty wilderness of concrete looking out onto the dark expanse of the sea. Between where Jack stood and the sea was a large mound. It was dark and would have blended into the background were it not for its distinctly human shape.

Jack ran. His heart pounded in his ears above the sound of his own voice. Stumbling over stones, he made a direct path right to Ianto's body. He fell to his knees with such force that he sliced them open but he didn't notice. The only thing that his eyes and mind saw was the body of the man he loved. Jack knew before he checked that Ianto was dead. Helpless, the Captain sat cradling Ianto's body. He'd told himself Ianto would be alright. That he'd die an old man with Jack at his bedside retelling stories and reliving memories they had both shared. Not like this. Not alone.

On the horizon, out at sea, the first bolt of lightning hit the water. In the pouring rain, at five to one in the morning, Jack Harkness sat holding the body of the only man he had truly loved and he cried.


End file.
